


Updated How to Seduce Your Godfather

by PottersoftheFuture



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Past Abuse, Past Underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PottersoftheFuture/pseuds/PottersoftheFuture
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter meets a man claiming to be his godfather at a pub. In drunken anger and confusion he proceeds to seduce him. What will happen when Sirius discovers his lover is none other than his godson?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	1. A Meeting in a Pub

** How to Seduce Your Godfather **

**When I originally wrote this I was a teenager and though I knew that sex between an adult and a child was wrong I didn't see the problem of putting to characters into that situation in a story (more to keep the timeline the same than anything). But as an adult I find it disturbing that Harry was a child, so I have aged Harry up so at the start he is sixteen. This means that Hogwarts runs for children and young adults between the ages of 14 and 21.**

**Warnings: Sirius/Harry Slash, mentions of rape, verbal, physical and sexual child abuse. If you don't like, then don't read. Dumbledore bashing.**

** Chapter 1 **

** A Meeting in a Pub **

Sixteen-year-old Harry James Potter whom the wizards called the Boy Who Lived, found himself in a pub in London. Harry had always planned to leave the Dursleys house as soon as turned sixteen. He had planned to drop out of school as soon as possible and get a job. Harry didn’t particularly care what job or where he lived.

As long as it wasn’t at Privet Drive where pain and suffering were inflicted upon him by Vernon Dursley, while his wife, Petunia Dursley nee Evans, Harry's last remaining blood relative, turned a blind eye. Ever since going to Stonewall High, where he didn’t have to underperform to stop being beaten for outperforming Dudley Dursley Harry had done his best to get the best grades he could. Plus, the Dursleys didn’t have much care of a “state” school so the teachers weren’t continually told that he was a bad child. And _never_ bothered to read his report cards. Not that Harry showed them to his family preferring to forge his uncle's signature on any forms that needed signed. His Aunt and Uncle had never noticed.

Harry had been able to make a couple of friends even if he would never invite them home and the Dursleys would never let him go anywhere that he would enjoy himself even if it meant subjugating themselves to his continued existence. He knew that at least one of his teachers had reported the Dursleys due to concerns about his welfare. Not that it _ever_ came to anything.

Harry had been removed from the Dursleys thirty-seven times over the thirteen years he had lived with the Dursleys. But he was usually back in the Dursleys care within twenty-four hours. The first few times when he was a very young child Harry had hoped that he would be saved. But by the time he was about nine Harry had given up ever being saved.

His only hope was moving out when he was sixteen - and he had friends who said he could stay with them when he turned sixteen. Harry might have taken them up on that if he wouldn't have to lie to them about what he was all the time. Currently, he had told them he was staying with friends from his old school which he knew had hurt them thinking that he had chosen them over him. And more importantly, going to stay with Dan and Aida would mean going back to Little Whinging, maybe he would run into Vernon which was something Harry could not abide.

But things had become more complicated when he had turned fourteen and Rubeus Hagrid had turned up at his door and told him he was a wizard, and he could leave two years earlier than he thought he would even if it was just for school term. Harry had written to Aida and Dan saying he had managed to get a scholarship to a boarding school in Scotland. Unfortunately, it had also meant that Harry wouldn’t be considered an adult in the Wizarding World until he was twenty years old. That would mean another six years with the Dursleys!

It wasn’t until he got to Hogwarts did, he realise how confusing the definition of adulthood was. You could legally get married and move out at sixteen (as long as you had parental permission) but you couldn’t use magic or vote until you were twenty. And it became more complicated if you were Muggle raised because you essentially had dual citizenship, so it was legal for Muggle raised children to do a lot that the Pure-Bloods were not allowed to.

It meant, of course, that there was nothing illegal about Harry moving out of the Dursleys when he was sixteen. Although Harry had _not_ returned to the Dursleys after his second year when he was still fifteen. Not after what had happened to him on his fifteenth birth. Harry closed his eyes and pushed that thought firmly out of his head.

Running away may not be the best plan of action but nobody else was going to save him so he was going to have to save himself. In a desperate attempt to get out of there once and for all, Harry had even told Dumbledore the truth about everything that had been going on since he was a small child. But the bloody headmaster had done nothing about his home situation. Weren't teachers supposed to help people like him? His Muggle teachers had at least _tried_ and never acted like he had _deserved_ it.

In the end, what had happened was that Harry had lost all respect for the headmaster. Not that Harry said that out aloud. Dumbledore was too highly thought of to publicly admit to disliking. All the man had said was that what had happened to Harry was terrible, but it was better being beaten and worse than being murdered by Voldemort.

The first few weeks he had remained on the streets, begging and getting a roof over his head by sleeping with older men. Harry knew it wasn’t safe but what other choices did he have. But when he turned sixteen things had changed for the better – he written to his form teacher asking for a reference. She had once tried to get him out of the Dursleys but to no avail.

He had managed to get a summer job in a tiny takeaway place run by an Indian couple who didn’t speak much English, and if the rumours were anything to go by were illegal immigrants. Harry didn't know if that was true of it was just a racist rumour. But if it was true maybe that's why they were willing to employ a teen runaway with no experience because he couldn’t report them – not that he would as he knew better than anyone why you might need to start a new life somewhere else. Or maybe they just pitied him and were kind enough to give the benefit of the doubt - not a lot of people would. Either way, it didn’t pay a lot but enough to allow him to pay for a bed in a local hostel which gave him a roof over his head which made things easier.

Harry had allowed his form to shift slightly so he looked like he was in his early twenties, his hair was a little bit lighter and more manageable, and his eyes more grey than green but everything else looked the same. Harry had always been able to change his appearance a little as his Aunt’s disastrous haircut when he was about ten had proven. The only thing that never changed was his horrible scar, although he was able to grow his hair or darken his skin enough that it became less noticeable.

Harry hadn’t told anyone at first because a lifetime of abuse had taught him to keep things private as much as possible. There was a reason that the Sorting Hat had desperately wanted him in Slytherin. But Harry had enough experience with being bullied for being poor in Stonewall due to his ragged clothing. He wasn’t going to go through _that_ again if there were nice people in Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat did admit that it wasn’t in the position of sorting people into Houses where they would be unsafe.

And after Hogwarts reaction to being exposed as a Parselmouth he doubted they would be any keener on Harry being some kind of shapeshifter. Harry had wanted to have a look into it, but he didn’t want anyone to question why he was looking into shapeshifters. Hopefully, at some point it would be covered in class.

Still stayed close to Kings Cross Station for convenience because it would take him back to Hogwarts come September. Living in a hostel filled with homeless (often different ones every night) and working with people who communication was a problem meant that he didn’t speak much to anyone. A few weeks in Harry found himself lonely which had led to him assuming his older form and going to local gay bar just to speak to someone which often led to sex.

Harry had found himself enjoying it … as long as he was in control. And just for that night he felt loved and cherished which is all he had ever wanted. Harry didn’t have a specific person in mind – he cared little for looks or age. Sometimes the most attractive men were the biggest arseholes in the place. But the skinny middle-aged man going through a painful divorce because he could no longer pretend to be “normal” was the kindest and most generous lover.

Harry was aware that there were dangers associated with doing this. But Harry had never really learnt self-respect with the Dursleys, so he didn't care enough for his well-being to worry about what he was doing. Also, he had found he rather enjoyed sex and that was a part of it. Harry knew a part of him rebelling from what his uncle had forced him to do or maybe reclaiming something that had been taken from him, but he pushed that thought away.

That night Harry was sitting at the counter being served up his normal vodka and coke at Boyle's Bar. The bar had been an Irish, family owned tavern since the nineteenth century when the Boyles had come over from Ireland because of the potato famine. Harry was currently looking for a candidate suitable for what he had planned tonight.

That was when Harry spotted the man, he wanted more than any other man he’d fucked with. The man was by the door of the tavern and seemed to be trying to avoid being looked at. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties. The man had lots of dark, curled hair, a shade or two lighter than Harry's hair and was gorgeous.

The man had grey eyes that, oddly enough, looked rather similar to Draco Malfoy's. He looked half-starved and was currently tearing his way through a bag of chips. The man wore a very long, motheaten trench coat that seemed to be about five sizes too big over baggy grey trousers.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Harry knew all the homeless people around here, being one himself, he would have thought that the man was also one. Harry thought that the man looked as skinny as he himself did, and Harry had been starved all his life! Merlin only knew why he wasn't shorter than he was – maybe it was just because he wanted to be taller than he was, and he was a shapeshifter. Harry watched the man knock back a pint in a dejected sort of manner. Harry then, picking up his vodka and coke, got up from his seat and slid into one beside the man who looked up at him warily from where he was sitting.

But it wasn’t his looks that got Harry interested it was the intense sadness that radiated in his eyes. The same sadness that Harry wore like a cloak. Harry knew that unlike all the rest of his lovers this man would _understand_ him!

"Hey," Harry greeted cheerfully.

"Lo," grumbled the man.

"Bad day?" asked Harry.

"More like a bad twelve years," he replied bitterly. Harry already felt they had a lot in common with each other.

"I know that feeling," chuckled Harry darkly. "Would you care for a drink?" Harry then asked him. Harry saw the man shoot him a suspicious look before shrugging indifferently.

"Thanks," the man grumbled as Harry retrieved another beer.

***

Sirius looked at the young man beside him, knowing perfectly well that he was currently way past his own alcohol limit, but it had been his roughest day since he had escaped from Azkaban a week ago. Sirius had been barely alive when he crawled out of the North Sea. But he had managed to hitchhike in a Muggle campers’ boot until they got back to their home in Leeds late at night. Sirius had scared the grandmother as she opened the boot to get her pyjamas out.

Sirius had then slipped onto the first train leaving Leeds and ended up in Manchester. There he had boarded another train to London and ran back to the house he hated but the only place that was safe for him now. Sirius had then collapsed in the doorway of Grimmauld Place and had laid there for about two days. Naturally, Kreacher had completely ignored him, just like when he was a child. At least he hadn't thrown a bucket of cold water over him to wake him up as he had when he was fifteen and had his first taste of alcohol. Of course, that was his mother's orders.

But finally, when he awoken, he made his way to his mother’s potions cupboard. Naturally, most of the healing potions had long past their expiry date so he was forced to order Kreacher to go out and buy him some. Kreacher grumbled but could not go against the will of his Master. Sirius had downed the healing potions and now felt much better for it. He still looked weak and hated how he looked in the mirror because he didn’t look like how he felt he should look. Sirius hadn’t watched himself grow old and didn’t feel old. He still felt like he was twenty-one but the face before him did not show the face he knew. He looked like his father did and he hated it. It was like he had had his youth sucked out by those foul beasts.

Sirius had visited the Dursley household, in Surrey, where his teenaged godson should have been staying since it was the summer holidays. In his opinion, the house was way too normal looking for it to be housing a teenaged wizard. However. for some reason, unknown to Sirius Black, the thirteen-year-old teenager was nowhere to be found.

Sirius had been confronted by Lily's horse-faced sister shooing him away as he sniffed for food around their bins. He had also seen her overweight whale of a husband drive away for work, or so Sirius presumed, and later he had seen a fat blob of a boy, which must have been Harry's cousin. He remembered that Lily had told them she had nephew. There was another angry little dog running about that was doted on by a muscular blonde woman. She was a good reminder for Sirius as to why he preferred men.

Sirius had quickly left the house after sniffing around for the smell of his godson, but finding that apparently, Harry hadn't been here for about a year. Sirius was upset but not too concerned it was likely Harry was spending time with friends. He might be back later … or not … after all Sirius had spent more time in the Potters home than his own until he was kicked out.

By the time he realised Harry was nowhere to be seen, he had hitched a ride on a train and headed to a Muggle bar located near Grimmauld place. Hopefully no one would recognize him, but he knew he was risking himself being seen and reported to the Ministry, but Sirius just had to go somewhere he could drink away all his troubles and get drunk off his ass. That was when the young man, who had previously been chatting to the Muggle barman, came up to him and attempted to start a conversation that Sirius wasn't in the mood to respond to.

The young man beside him once more tried to make conversation, “So what's your story?” he asked.

Sirius couldn't believe a stranger, an attractive stranger, had asked him that. He was exactly the kind of young man that would have hit on Sirius before Azkaban. Yet didn’t he think that Sirius was too old for him. Sirius wouldn’t have been interested in an old man like him. Sirius had always gone for the pretty men.

“Long story,” grumbled Sirius glaring at the man, hoping he would get the message to leave him alone.

“Mine too,” the man responded apparently ignoring his glare.

“Just family issues, you?” Sirius muttered.

“Same,” the man said flatly.

“Maybe you should go talk to someone your age,” Sirius muttered.

“They’re boring,” the young man said dismissively.

“You’re talking to me because I’m interesting?” Sirius snapped.

“Yep,” the young man said. “And hot.”

“I am not,” Sirius muttered depressively.

“Yes, you are,” the young man said. ‘Tall, lithe, amazing hair and beautiful eyes.”

Sirius blinked, “I’m looking for my godson, Harry Potter.”

*******

Harry had gone completely silent for several long moments trying to think about what to say in response to that pronouncement. He had a godfather! He could have a father figure! A family! But where had this bloody man been for his entire life? He claimed to be his Godfather, but where was the man when Harry had needed him so desperately?

Why hadn’t he shown any interest in Harry,before he’d turned sixteen? Where was he when his mother and father –since they had obviously trusted the man enough to name him as his godfather– were murdered brutally by the darkest wizard of their time? Where was he when he was a child and in desperate need of saving from his family.

Where was the fucking man last year when Vernon fucking Dursley, his supposed parental guardian, was abusing him so vilely? Where was this man when he had been forced down into the Dungeons and the Chamber of Secrets? Where was he when Quirrell and Voldemort, a.k.a. Tom Marvolo Riddle, had come so close to murdering him?

It had been fifteen fucking years this October since the man had actually given enough of a damn to see where Harry was! The more Harry thought about it, the more Harry felt that if his supposed godfather hadn’t been, for reasons unknown, drinking a lot of alcohol tonight, he probably wouldn’t have mentioned Harry at all. Harry sneered internally, sounding like Snape. However, Harry, who had also been drinking and was angry on top of it, decided that the best way to get back at him was to seduce his own godfather. If it hadn’t been for the alcohol, he probably wouldn’t have acted the way he did, but he was drunk, so right now he didn’t care.

*******

The young man then smirked in what Sirius thought was a very Slytherin sort of way. It went straight to Sirius’ groin who could barely remember the last time he had sex. He thinks it was with a fellow Order member after a brutal battle. And now, they probably thought he was a Death Eater now Sirius thought bitterly. Was it really so wrong to go to bed with a handsome, Muggle stranger who was clearly attracted to him?

“Well then, I think I may have a way to make you forget all about your godson,” growled the young man.

It didn't process in his head immediately what the young man was implying. In fact, under the influence of several pints of beer, it took Sirius several moments to process what was said and to realise what the young man was suggesting in his growled statement. It wasn't until the young man moved closer to Sirius and moved a delicate, slender and almost feminine hand to inch its way carefully up Sirius' right thigh, making Sirius blush, that Sirius truly understood what he wanted. He couldn't help but wonder why? It wasn't like Azkaban had left him with his teenaged good looks. But as the hand got higher, Sirius had to swallow a groan at the feelings the other male was stirring inside him.

Sirius still didn't understand why, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that, for whatever reason, this young man desired Sirius. He drained the last dregs of beer that were left in his pint glass, and the two dark haired males left together with the bar man giving his friend a hearty wink. The young man grinned back at the bar tender as he pulled Sirius outside.

Sirius knew that they were both half drunk and would probably regret this in the morning, but honestly, at the present moment, stumbling out with an attractive young thing at his side, Sirius couldn't care less. Once back out in the streets of London, Sirius was left blinking in the darkness whilst his partner looked completely at home in the streets. Sirius didn't know what to think about that.

Sirius wasn't sure whether or not he should take the young man back to where he had lived before his parents had kicked him out. After all, he was a handsome young man and was probably used to classier places than what was in essence a spooky old haunted house. Just thank god none of his relatives had stayed behind, but it still had moving pictures, which would frighten the Muggle man out of his wits, and the smell of dust and mold would show that the house hadn't been lived in since his mother had died eight years ago in 1985. The house would probably frighten the man away and turn him off, if nothing else.

Sirius turned to the man leaning on him, “Where do you live?”

The young man seemed to hesitate again. “Out of town,” the man finally murmured into his ear.

Sirius wondered what the man was doing alone in London but supposed that it didn't really matter. Sirius was left with only one option now and that was to take the man to the Black Town House. Sirius was rather reluctant to hail a cab, he was bound to be all over the Muggle news by now, and he had no wish to be recognised by a sober Muggle as a supposed mass murderer.

Luckily for Sirius Black and his young friend he wasn't that far from his childhood home. They were only a couple of blocks away from Grimmauld Place, he thought with a shudder. Oh, how he hated that house.

So, Sirius and the young man staggered the two blocks and Sirius showed the Muggle the house, which was invisible to all Muggles and up the invisible porch. His friend could only see it because Sirius wanted him to. His parents would be rolling in their graves at the idea of a Muggle being in the Noble House of Black – ignoring the fact that it was originally a Muggle home before the Blacks had acquired it. That, of course, made Sirius even keener to invite the young man in just to piss off his dead parents.

The two drunk, lusty men made their way up the stairs and into Sirius' bedroom. Sirius’ room, naturally, was decorated completely different compared to the rest of the house, which was dedicated to pure-blood mania and dark magic. Sirius' room was covered with Muggle photos and pictures of the Marauders and Lily.

As soon as they were in the room, the younger man attacked Sirius' lips and Sirius kissed the young man back equally as passionate as he was being kissed, absorbing the taste of the man whilst they were tearing each other's clothes off of one another. Soon they were both in nothing but boxers.

Harry broke away for a second. “Condoms,” Harry gasped, not wanting to catch anything that the other man might have.

Sirius nodded. He had forgotten that although Muggle men couldn't get pregnant, they could catch diseases unlike wizards. Sirius quickly broke his exploration of the younger man's delectable nipples that he had currently been suckling on. The young man certainly was tasty Sirius thought.

Sirius just hoped that his horrible excuse for parents had not removed the condoms, left from his teenaged days, after he had run away, but Sirius wasn't holding out much hope for that. They probably got rid of everything he owned the day he had left for the Potters. Surprisingly they were still there. Just like they had been since he turned fifteen.

He carefully slid one on, glad that it was a magical brand which lasted far longer than a Muggle one would. Sirius was more than ready to complete the deed; his dick was already hard. The young man was stronger than he had appeared, and he wrapped strong, supple legs around Sirius' waist.

Sirius understood the gesture perfectly, and without so much as a pause, Sirius sunk into his lover's tightness. Fuck he was tight, not a virgin, but still tight. After the two of them came screaming into the night, the two of them slumped tiredly on top of each other. The man's familiar green eyes met Sirius' grey ones before they both fell asleep.


	2. Making a Habit of This

** Chapter Two **

** Making a Habit of This **

The next morning after Harry got himself fucked by his own godfather Harry awoke to the smell of crunchy, salted well done bacon and proper Muggle Coffee that never made it into Hogwarts for some reason. For a second Harry blinked feeling a little odd in his unfamiliar surroundings allowing his memories to catch up with him. It was also odd because he was just unused to not being the one who did all the work whether it was cleaning or cooking even over the last few weeks it was usually him who woke up first and made himself food before leaving. So, the fact that he was actually being cared for was just add on for him.

Harry didn't know what a house was like where he wasn't forced to work from dawn to dusk or face Uncle Vernon's wrath. At that precise moment he felt a little awkward and then when he attempted to sit up in his lover and godfather's bed a familiar burn in his backside reminded Harry of exactly what had happened last night between him and the tall, dark haired man who was his godfather. Harry's eyes suddenly shot open at the realisation of exactly who had done him last night.

If anyone had been watching it would be almost comical but to Harry it was just regret. He now knew that he had just ruined any possible chance of a familial relationship with his godfather. But did that really matter? Harry had never had a family, and now he was an adult he didn’t need one now! So if he wanted to screw the godfather who had abandoned him to the Dursleys, well then that was what he would do.

That was when the door opened bringing in his lover. Harry had to think that the man looked far more brushed up this morning. He looked like he had actually had a shower, and his dark hair was combed revealing that it was curly and not just a bird’s nest, unlike Harry’s own. Harry thought he was pretty hot actually.

His grey eyes didn't look as dead this morning but there were still those bags under his eyes making Harry wonder when he had last sleep. But at least he was smiling this morning and no longer seemed to be drowning his sorrows in alcohol. He was wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants showing off his slim chest. Harry stared at him for a minute before his lover interrupted him.

‘Hungry?’

**

‘Hungry?' asked Sirius kindly.

Sirius arrived back at his room where he stared at his lover who had been blinking sleep out of his eyes. Sirius stared at the young man who was propped up on the white pillows. Sirius thought the man had bed hair which was just messy as James' had been and a similar shade too (maybe a shade or two darker). Sirius frowned, he thought it had been lighter last night – it must have just been the lighting.

Still the thought made Sirius remember his late best friend who had been one of the few Gryffindors who hadn't cared that he came from a traditionally Dark family. But Sirius had failed James as he had Lily and Harry. Sirius was supposed to be protecting them, but he hadn't. Sirius had all but killed the Potter couple and orphaned their son. Sirius wondered where Lily and James' teenaged son was at the present.

The man pushed on broken, rounded glasses. Sirius knew that had the man been a wizard he would have done a simple reparo and fixed the glasses revealing grey-green eyes. Sirius blinked sure that the young man’s hair was lighter than it had been a second ago. Azkaban must have done a number on him.

But he didn’t think he was the only one who had had a hard life. Not given the scars littering the young man that looked like some he had seen on some of the hard bitten Aurors like Alastor. They were scars that made Sirius think Dark Magic burns and the sharp end of a belt buckle. He saw the young man look uneasy and find a faded red shirt that had been discarded on the floor and pull it over himself obviously embarrassed. Sirius decided not to mention it, at least not until he knew him better!

‘Breakfast?’ asked the young man in a clear attempt to change the subject.

At this Sirius smiled at the man, 'more like lunch.'

Sirius chuckled feeling happier than he had done in years. The young man did not return the smile. Sirius couldn't help but want to know what had happened to such a young man to have him scarred so badly.

'What happened to you?' Sirius asked as gently as he could.

Sirius gestured to the man's heavily scarred torso which the young man hastily covered by a baggy red top that seemed several sizes too big. The young man scowled at him, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. Sirius was just about to let things go, when the young man answered with two horrifying words.

'Family issues.'

Sirius couldn’t help the gasp that he emitted, 'your family did that to you!'

Sirius had no idea what to say to that pronouncement. Sirius felt physically ill. Sure, he and his family and never seen eye to eye. Actually, Sirius hated them to bits, and he was sure his parents felt the same. And Reg was too under their thumb to disagree with them.

_But_ they had never physically hurt him. It was all just verbal insults! Maybe they would have hurt him if they hadn't been too obsessed with their bloody bloodlines to even consider hurting someone of their own blood even after Sirius was disowned at the age of sixteen. And before that he was their heir and nobody would hurt their Heir.

But the young man before him had obviously had a horrific childhood. The young man just nodded tiredly looking like he was about to flee from the room. Sirius accepted this and understood the fact that this wasn't a subject that he was willing to go into.

Sirius decided to help the man out and change the subject, 'so what's your name, anyway?' trying not to sound too worried that it was only the morning after that he thought to ask his lover his name.

'James Newman,' Harry said before he could think about it.

'Yours?' Harry asked.

'Rus Lupin,' Sirius said. 'Would you like to eat now?' holding a plate of food that must be cold by now and he could not use warming charms on it.

'Please,' smiles James.

James eagerly grabbed the plate of bacon off him and began shovelling the food down. James was holding the plate like he was scared Sirius would take it off him. Sirius realised that was extremely likely from how the young man had been raised and how skinny he was. Although, Sirius probably didn’t look any better – Azkaban wasn’t great on nutritious meals even if you felt like eating with the Dementors draining you of anything resembling conscious thought.

‘There’s more if you want it,’ Sirius said.

James nodded as he was chewing and swallowing his food 'yeah, please.'

Sirius went back downstairs and retrieved another two plates of food which there was silence as the two of them guzzled down the food. It was the best thing Sirius had ever tasted. Sirius could do a good fry up and a few other dishes that Lily and Remus had taught them, but he would never exactly be considered a good cook.

‘So, what are you doing in London?’ asked Sirius.

‘Avoiding my family, and working a part time job for the summer,’ James replied. ‘I’ll be going to college in September, up North.’

Sirius nodded, ‘what are you studying?’

‘Just completing my education as far from my family as I can,’ James replied.

‘That I can completely understand,’ Sirius said.

‘And what about you?’ asked James. ‘What’s your job?’

Sirius hesitated – he didn’t want to say he didn’t have a job. How would that look? Like he was a rich brat who had never bothered to work a day in his life? Just like his mother and cousins and brother. But he couldn’t say the truth that he was on the run from the law. He used to tell his lovers that he was in the Police Academy, they used to fawn all over him at that point but now he didn’t exactly look like the attractive young Auror he once was.

‘Between jobs?’ asked James kindly. ‘I’m sure you’ll be back on your feet in no time.’

Sirius smiled, ‘thanks. Yeah, I was a police officer … but I … well I was kicked off the force … and it’s been hard.’

James frowned, ‘what happened if you don’t mind me asking?’

Sirius shook his head, ‘a friend framed me for … breaking the law … no one believed me …’

‘No one believed me when I spoke up about the-my family,’ James said softly. ‘They said they did, but they always returned me back to _them!_ And the few who did believe seemed content to leave me with _them_! _’_

Sirius reached over and pulled James into a hug feeling his shoulders shake either with grief, rage or pain. Somebody should have done _something_ to save James from being _hurt_ so brutally. Yet, it seemed the only one who had ever saved James was James!

‘They shouldn’t have done that,’ Sirius said darkly. ‘You should never have been hurt like that. If you give me their names, I’ll do something to really get in trouble with the police with.’

James laughed, ‘thanks, but the less I have to _think_ about _them_ the better!’

Sirius nodded, ‘well the offer’s always there.’

It was only then that Sirius realised something else about the young man. James had either not found or not bothered to put back on his faded blue, baggy jeans that had seen far better days. Sirius knew he probably should resist a traumatised young man, but it had been so _long_.

James laughed into Sirius' ears, 'see something you like?' James flirted with him as Sirius became hard.

'Oh yes,' growled Sirius.

Sirius pulled the shirt off his lover and once again exploring the other man’s body whilst capturing James’ tasty and bruised lips with his own. James for his part did not waste time in exploring his body. Sirius was sure he had ripped his shirt clean off him. And oh-

Oo oo oo oo oo oO

It was only much later after the two of them had once again spent the better part of the last hour rolling around Rus' double bed and two were lying in one another's thin arms. Harry and Rus were covered with sweat and sticky substances that had come from their earlier activities. They were both well and truly fucked and looked it as they breathed heavily.

Harry's messy hair which he was sure had reverted back to black at some point in the night was resting on Rus' thin, lightly haired chest looking sleepy. Harry looked over to the wall where an old picture of his father, his lover and the another two men was. Harry somehow doubted that this was exactly the kind of relationship that Lily and James Potter had wished for Harry and his godfather to share when they had named Rus Lupin as his godfather.

Harry looked up into Rus' stormy grey eyes and smiled gently at him, 'we're certainly making a habit out of this,' Harry murmured.

Rus looked at him oddly, 'it's only twice.'

'More than I usually do,' Harry replied.

‘I haven’t really done this kind of thing for years,’ Rus admitted.

‘Divorced?’ asked Harry.

‘No, nothing like that,’ Rus assured him.

‘Married?’ asked Harry.

Rus laughed, ‘no, there was never anyone. I was just busy.’

Harry nodded looking at the time, ‘oh, god, I’m going to be late for work. I have to go. I really need this job.’

Oo oo oo oo oo oO

Harry finished his shift and went back to the hostel to get a change of clothes, but he felt quite lonely, so he went back to Doyles. Rus Lupin was already there looking around the pub for him and grinning when he saw him. Harry made his way towards him.

‘Hey,’ Harry said smiling.

‘Hi, how was work?’ asked Rus.

‘Tiring,’ Harry said. ‘God customers are idiots. Whoever said that customers are always right have clearly never worked in a restaurant a day in their lives!’

‘Probably not,’ agreed Rus. ‘It’s the kind of thing my parents would have said … and they never worked a day in their lives!’

Naturally, they went back to Rus’ place that night and had a repeat of the night before.

Oo oo oo oo oo oO

This pattern continued for the next six days and was making both men very happy. Harry had stopped sleeping around with half the population of London. And now they were taking turns doing the cooking both of them were looking far healthier than they had done beforehand, especially Rus who had looked like Harry just after leaving the Dursleys.

Harry knew he was in danger of falling in love with his own godfather. He knew Rus was still looking for him not realising that he was currently making a habit of shagging his late best friend's son. Harry was sure it would break Rus’ heart to know the truth because even though Harry was an adult, he was sure Rus would only ever see the baby he had been fifteen years ago.

Currently, Harry was lying curled in Rus’ arms after a round of fucking. He was getting better at not shifting his hair and eyes back to his true form somewhere between being penetrated and coming. It was a wonder that Rus had yet to realise that … although that was probably because he was to blissed out to realise and by the time he had come too so had Harry.

‘So, where are you staying?’ asked Rus.

‘Oh, in a hostel,’ Harry said shrugging.

‘Thank Me-my Lord,’ Rus took a breath of fresh air. ‘I was worried you were living rough.’

‘Not anymore,’ Harry said.

Rus nodded, ‘you can always move in with me. Mer-my Lord knows that you spend most nights here anyway.’

‘I do,’ agreed Harry ignoring Rus’ slips into magical phrases. ‘And I would.’

So, the next day Harry booked out of the hostel. He packed his school bag with his clothes, toothbrush and other things that he would need. Then he placed the rest of his things in luggage storage at Kings Cross Station and made his way to Rus’ nice townhouse feeling happier than he ever remembered being.


	3. Goodbyes and Truths

** Chapter Three **

** Goodbyes and Truths **

It is said there is a first time for everything and for Harry he had just found out exactly how true that was. For the first time in the three years since Harry had Harry was not a freak but a Wizard and he would be going to a school for people like him. A school that he both loved for being an escape from the Dursleys and hated for being manipulated, control and abused in more subtle but the same ways as the Dursleys had done.

Entering the Wizarding world had been a shock for Harry for not only was he a wizard, but he was famous for something Harry could barely remember. And now it was time for him to go back to Hogwarts, but Harry didn't want to go back. He was – for once in his life – truly happy with his Rus. If he returned, he would probably be once more manipulated into doing the old man's dirty work – he always was! He would be back to being stared and gaped at.

But he would be with his friends again who Harry always missed. But Harry knew he would rather be with Rus than his friends. Rus knew all of him, even the parts that Harry did his best to keep from Ron and Hermione. It were these feelings more than anything that forced Harry come to a realisation that was long in coming; Harry James Potter was in love with Rus Lupin, his own godfather.

But the night before Harry had to go back to Hogwarts came all too soon for Harry's liking. The evening of the thirtieth of September found the two long time lovers once again lying in one another arm's in post coital bliss. Harry rested on his arms looking at Rus before speaking.

'I'm leaving tomorrow,'

'What?' asked Rus shocked and a little hurt.

'It's the new term of College it starts soon,'

Harry sighed sadly wishing he could tell Rus the truth but knowing he couldn't. If Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, did not turn up for Hogwarts the whole Wizarding World would panic. And Dumbledore _would_ find him and know that he wasn’t where Dumbledore had decided was best for him. And Harry was sure that Dumbledore would make sure he could never disappear from the Dursleys again, laws be damned!

'I really want to stay but-'

Rus cut the teenager off with a passionate kiss, 'go, we can meet next summer anyway or not whatever you feel like,' smiled Rus. 'I'm leaving for Scotland soon anyway still hoping to find Harry you know my godson at school.'

'Mmmh,' Harry murmured not liking the fact that he could run into his godfather at school and his secret identity could come out and he couldn’t see their relationship surviving that.

~.oOOo.~

The next day was the first day of September and the first day of a new term. Harry re-met his friends at King's Cross station with smiles and hugs. And this time last year Ron and Harry were made to go first so that Mr and Mrs Weasley could make sure no mishaps with them being on the Platform. Mr and Mrs Weasley seemed to be watching Harry very carefully which had Harry tense. He had too many secrets that he did not want to come out.

Harry just hoped that no evidence of his summer activities came to light. Because he was no way going back to the Dursleys ever even if fucking Albus Dumbledore did make him go! Harry was an adult in the Muggle world, so Dumbledore had no say where he stayed in the summers.

Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way onto the train and found an almost compartment with a man who seemed strikingly familiar in a way that Harry couldn’t place. Harry didn't recognize him for a moment. Where did he knew the man from? He looked tired and was fast asleep before the train had even started.

Harry thought for a moment those bags seemed familiar to a picture he had seen. It was only then that Harry recognized where he had seen him before even though Harry hadn't actually met him (well not in his memory!) Harry knew the mousy haired boy from the picture that was hung in Rus' bedroom which Harry was very familiar with over the last few weeks.

So that meant he knew his lover and father. Where had he been over his life? It had never occurred to Harry why none of his parents’ friends had ever sought him out when he was a child. But now his father’s friends seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, Harry felt incredibly bitter that they had all abandoned him!

Harry rapidly tried to mask his bitter anger at his father’s childhood friend. But neither Ron nor Hermione had noticed anything amiss with Harry as per usual. Harry wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or bitter (Ron and Hermione never seemed to notice when Harry was upset and needed help). Harry wondered if they too had trouble seeing passed the Boy Who Lived nonsense.

Hermione and Ron seemed to be more worried if that the man wasn't really asleep. And confused as to why a member of staff was riding the train. Usually, they made their own way to Hogwarts by magical transport which would be too much of a security risk for all students to travel by. Eventually, Ron decided that he was and turned to Hermione and Harry.

'Who d'you reckon he is?'

Hermione looked up at the man's suitcase and answered Ron, 'Professor R. J. Lupin,' Hermione replied.

Harry gasped and started in surprise when he heard the familiar surname. It was the surname of his summer romance. Harry wondered if he was related to Rus. They knew each other had least as they had been in a photo together as teenagers. They didn't look anything a like unlike the Weasleys although their parents were both red heads, so maybe they could be brothers or cousins. After all he and Dudley were cousins by blood but were as different as day and night in looks and personality. The only similarity with R.J. and Rus were the bags under their eyes but Rus’ had improved over the few weeks they had spent together.

Harry kept an eye on him for the duration of the journey well except when there was an interruption and the train stopped as one of the guards of Azkaban known as Dementors entered. The Dementor seemed to go specifically for Harry and caused Harry to fall off his seat opposite Hermione and Ron onto the compartment floor in some sort of fit according to Ron as he couldn't actually remember what had happened when he was having the fit and unconscious.

Lupin gave them chocolate and left to talk to the driver. After he was gone Hermione and Ron explained the details of what had happened and what Lupin had said. It was then that Ron gave Harry the first mention of Sirius Black as he was explaining why the guards of Azkaban had been searching the train.

'Sirius Black?' asked Harry.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. Harry hated when they did that. Harry didn’t have the Wizarding upbringing that Ron had, nor did he have the liberty of time to do all the research into the Wizarding World that Hermione dad. He was too busy trying to survive the Dursleys, Voldemort and the Wizarding World.

'Blimely, what haven't you heard?' asked Ron sounding shocked forgetting Harry had been cut off from the Wizarding World during the summer holidays. 'Oh, he's a mass murderer,' explained Ron. 'Broke out of Azkaban,' explained Ron. Harry looked confused, 'the Wizarding prison. He's the first one to ever do that.'

'Oh,' Harry said.

'He was one of You Know Who's most loyal followers,' added Ron in a hushed voice.

Harry looked furious, 'that son of a motherfucker.'

‘ _Harry,’_ Hermione said scandalised. 

'I know,' Ron said.

'Didn't you hear about Sirius Black it was all over the Muggle news,' Hermione said frowning.

'I don't watch much TV,' Harry said honestly.

'Who did he kill?' asked Harry.

‘Twelve random Muggles,' Ron said both he and Hermione were wearing disgusted expressions. Harry thought that was quite understandable, 'with one curse,' Ron added and Harry was caught between shock and disgust. 'Bastard.'

Harry was thinking about what Black had done and swore in disgust and anger. And now he was escaped. Harry could only imagine how many Muggles he could kill if he wasn’t found soon, in an attempt to complete Voldemort’s aims.

‘Has he killed anyone yet?’ asked Harry.

‘No,’ Ron shook his head. ‘Which is something at least, but Mum thinks it’s only a matter of time.’

‘I’m more worried about what he’s doing if he’s not trying to complete Voldemort’s genocidal plans,’ Harry said darkly.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Ron.

‘That he might try and find Voldemort … and return him to power,’ Harry said grimly.

Ron went pale, ‘oh Merlin.’

Harry was about to say more as the compartment door re-opened and R.J. Lupin re-entered. Now that Lupin was awake Harry wanted to ask him a question about Rus.

'You haven't got any family, have you?' asked Harry.

Lupin looked confused at this, 'no, why?' Lupin was watching Harry carefully.

Harry just shrugged casually not telling the truth, 'oh someone I met during the summer was called Lupin must be one of these odd coincident that happen.'

Harry was well aware of there being something very odd going on here. He just had no idea what and that annoyed him. Perhaps it was not only Harry who felt the need to conceal his true identity but why should Rus or whatever his real name, need to lie about his name. Harry just didn't like it! But it was only at breakfast the next morning was Harry's questions answered by the Daily Prophet arriving for them.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry had just begun to dig into his fresh breakfast when the Prophet had arrived in little grey owl's beak for Hermione who had just started proscribing to the Prophet so that she could keep up to date with the events of the wider Wizarding world outside of Hogwarts. Hermione unrolled the paper and there on the front page was a very familiar face to Harry looking incredibly different than Harry knew him. There on the front page wearing a completely maniacal expression was Rus Lupin, Harry's lover dressed in striped grey and white robes and holding a wooden placard with numbers on it. Harry looked up to the headline.

**SIRIUS BLACK SPOTTED NEAR KENT**

Harry went white and spat out his mouthful of pumpkin juice emerald green eyes wide but not with fear with shock. 'T-t-that's Sirius Black,' Harry stuttered out his mind refusing to understand and put it together his lover and the mass murderer.

'Yeah nutter,' Ron said rather dismissively not seeing Harry's panic.

'It's okay Harry he's not coming to get you,' Hermione said thinking Harry was scared.

But Harry was not scared. Not at all. He was shocked. Oh yes, he was plenty shocked. But how could he not be considering the man he loved had been lying to him! Okay he had been lying to Rus – Sirius – too. But Harry had only lied so their relationship didn't end, not so that he didn't end up back in prison.

But was he a murderer? Harry just couldn't believe it. He just couldn't! He couldn't even begin to accept it! The guy whom he loved was a follower of Voldemort!

No, he couldn't be! He just couldn't be! Look at the way he talked about Harry and his parents. Someone who supported Voldemort couldn't act like he cared for the Boy Who Lived could he!


	4. Disbelief

** Chapter Four **

** Disbelief **

For Harry James Potter one of the many students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the school term was flying by. This came as much of a surprise to Harry considering that he hadn't wanted to come back. Too busy spending his time being fucked by his lover who claimed to be his godfather!

And turned out was also a wanted Dark Wizard whose master had killed Harry's parents. Harry had destroyed his master's body and his master still wanted Harry dead. Oh yeah Sirius Black didn't know that James Green was really the Boy Who Lived. But apart from that they had a completely normal relationship!

Harry had handed in his permission slip that he had signed with his Uncle’s signature just like he would have done at Stonewall. Ron was impressed with Harry’s balls – his mother would have killed him if he did the same. But Hermione was horrified that he had broken the rules. She lectured him for about an hour straight and frowned at him the whole time they were there but she didn’t tattle on him so there was that.

They came back for the Halloween Feast but after the feast came the surprising queue outside the portrait of the Fat Lady the entrance to their Common Room. Harry thought this odd – it had never happened before! And he didn't think it was because of Neville as Ron thought because Neville forgot the password all the time and someone behind Neville would always have told him what the password was, and Harry saw no reason for that to change now. And sure, enough right behind Harry was Neville. So it wasn't because of Neville.

Then the crowd moved a little and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville were finally able to observe the Fat Lady. Or what was left of her. For there was her painting covered with knife slashes and no Fat Lady was anywhere to be seen. There were gasps from all the students present.

Then Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's face appeared his bright blue eyes absent of any twinkle currently, 'we need to find her,' Dumbledore said sharply. 'Professor McGonagall,' Dumbledore turned to the Head of Gryffindor House, 'please go to Mr. Filch,' Dumbledore ordered. 'At once,' he said sharply when she didn't seem to be moving, 'and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.'

Then suddenly Peeves who had been watching the proceedings obviously loving the chaos that was around interrupted, 'you'll be lucky,' cackled the poltergeist called Peeves. 

Dumbledore, McGonagall and the students turned to the poltergeist, but it was Dumbledore who questioned the poltergeist, 'what do you mean Peeves?' asked Headmaster Dumbledore. 

Peeves seemed to realise that he couldn't deny the Headmaster his wishes, 'ashamed,' explained Peeves. 'Your headship, sir,' Peeves said redundantly. 'Doesn't want to be seen,' explained Peeves. 'She's in a horrible mess,' added Peeves with a horrible chuckle making Harry angry the horrible poltergeist. 'Saw her running through the landscape,' Peeves explained to the crowd listening with bated breath, 'on the fourth floor,' Peeves added and there was a sudden movement, but Dumbledore held up a hand so much. 'Poor thing,' he added.

Dumbledore looked at Peeves again, 'did she say who did it?' asked Dumbledore his voice quiet but able to carry over the rabble of the students and very grave not showing any other emotions or reactions at the state of the Fat Lady.

Peeves nodded eagerly still with that sickly grin in his face, 'oh yes, Professorhead,' Peeves said using yet another supposed term of respect for the Headmaster of Hogwarts he smirked at the Headmaster. 'He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in,' Peeves explained and everyone wondered who it was, 'you see. Nasty temper,' well that was pretty obvious someone with a nice temper does not slash a defenceless portrait to pieces. 'He's got that Sirius Black,' and Harry tensed up not wanting to believe it was true as the poltergeist just smirked.

The reaction to Peeves the Poltergesit's pronouncement of who attacked the Fat Lady was stupendous. The students lost control in their panic and screams; Harry had only seen them like this once before and that was when Quirrell announced there was a troll in the school. Well Harry supposed that was because there was a supposed mass murderer in the school. Peeves was cackling happily at the chaos that between he and Black had caused.

Only Harry and Dumbledore seemed not be panicking. But Harry was in shock trying to absorb what Rus had done. And Dumbledore let off several firecrackers to calm down the students and the atmosphere of the chaos the Gryffindor students were causing was turned into a silent shock at their headmaster's actions.

Harry was just staring around at the staircase leading to the Common Room numbly unable to accept the truth of what had happened. Of what Sirius Black had done. Of what Rus Lupin had done. Of the betrayal of his lover! The tatters of what had once been the Fat Lady's portrait seemed to be staring at him mockingly; mocking Harry for his continued love of the Dark Wizard who still supported Voldemort.

But still some part of Harry deep within his soul hoped against hoped that Harry was wrong about Rus. He couldn't let go of him; not yet! Surely, the man he had met this past summer couldn’t be the monster he seemed to be. Not Rus who made the best fry up, made the most stupid obnoxious jokes and loved old rock music, whose smile could light up the room. He just couldn’t be a mass-murderer!

Harry was completely unable to process what had happened tonight. It made no sense to him. The others would think he was frightened. But Harry wasn't. He could never be frightened of his lover! How could one teenager put two completely different people together as the same person; one person filled with love and passion for Harry and the other was a psychotic mass murderer. They couldn't be the same person!

He thought back on his memories of Rus Lupin who was Sirius Black and it just didn't make sense there had been no indication of the darkness that lay within his soul! So, he couldn't be Voldemort's right-hand man. He couldn't be. He just couldn't. Could he?

Look at the terrible destruction of Sirius Black that Harry had heard of and now could see the evidence before his very eyes. But Harry had seen the wanted pictures all over the newspapers. And they were exactly the same people despite what their different in personalities said. Unless they were identical twin brothers (which wasn't very likely) or had multiple personality disorders the only possibility is that one of these personas was a fake.

And Harry hoped against hope that it was the destructive Sirius Black that was the fake personality. But it was more likely that Black had been lying to him for the entire duration of their relationship. But even that made no sense he couldn’t see somebody of Lucius Malfoy’s ilk being in relations with somebody he believed to be a Muggle! Let alone be so caring and loving towards the Muggles whom they wanted to destroy.

Harry was feeling physically ill and he probably looked as bad as he felt, all pale, clammy and sweaty. He really hoped that there was another explanation for what had happened tonight. That someone else had done this … this catastrophe, not his Rus. That Peeves had lied for some reason and Dumbledore hadn't noticed.

But this again didn't seem very likely and he was beginning to believe what he hoped he'd never believe; that he'd fallen for a psychopath. There was no other option but to accept that fact he thought with a sigh.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry worriedly and had to half drag him away from the portrait whole and down the staircases into the Great Hall. In the Great Hall sleeping bags had been found (or magiced up).

Shortly after the Ravenclawes dressed in pyjamas rubbing sleep out of their eyes carrying books with them, the Slytherins looking around suspiciously and the Hufflepuffs hanging around together speaking in hushed tones about what had happened joined them in the Great Hall. The teachers too were dressed in pyjamas as they came looking very grim. The House Heads were making sure all the students were there by taking their houses's registers any missing students were located and dragged into the hall.

The teachers then left Percy and Penelope (the Head Boy and Head Girl) and the prefects in charge whilst they searched the school for Sirius Black. Harry couldn't stop himself got hoping against hope that Rus had escaped. He knew he shouldn’t – Sirius Black was not somebody he should want loose. But at the same time, he didn’t want his Rus subjected to those foul Dementors.

Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were worried about him. The fact that Harry wasn't joining in the rest of the students' conversations about how Black had managed to breach all the wards that Dumbledore himself had placed there. Usually, Harry’s need to know meant he was one of the first to offer up theories. But there were some theories that were quite plainly ridiculous.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The next day at Hogwarts the teachers were desperately trying to make the castle safer for all the students. But Harry didn't even seem to notice this. Hermione thought that Harry was acting very oddly; he looked like he hadn't slept a wink and then he had spent the whole morning skulking in the Common Room. He hadn't left one time after they had returned there to apparently get dressed (Ron had to convince Harry to get dressed in the first place) and then he refused to come down for breakfast.

Hermione didn't understand what was going on in Harry's head. Hermione had been watching him all day and was becoming increasingly concerned about his behaviour! Ron was worried too, especially as Harry wasn’t telling him anything. Not for the first time – Harry was an intensely private person.

Harry rarely got scared of anything and now he seemed too scared to leave the Common Room. Under the usual circumstances Harry would usually have already begun to theorise and plan with Ron on what to do. Harry never liked to leave things to the teachers to handle. But today every time that either Ron or Hermione so much as tried to talk about Black he seemed to freeze up.

'Harry?'

Hermione asked once again trying to get through to her friend. Apparently, to no avail as all her friend did was cast her half a glance before he returned to staring at the ceiling. Hermione wondered if there was something that he wasn't telling them.

Hermione sighed and passed on McGonagall's message, 'Professor McGonagall asked me to tell you that she wants to see you in her office as soon as possible.' 

Harry nodded absently obviously not caring about McGonagall at this given moment, 'I better go then,' Harry murmured morosely.

Hermione gave Harry a pensive look and tried another time to get Harry to talk to her, 'Harry are you okay?' asked Hermione worriedly.

'Huh,' Harry asked having obviously not been listening to Hermione, 'oh yes fine,' Harry sounded very distracted.

Hermione frowned at Harry's reaction to her question which he obviously wasn't listening to. Harry slouched looking very depressed out of the Gryffindor Common Room looking like he was walking to his execution. Hermione wondered if it was just fear that had Harry act like this!

All day his eyes had been red, blood shot and puffy and Hermione thought she had heard him crying last night. And all morning Harry had been moping about looking like someone had died or he had been dumped.

There was something seriously wrong with her friend, but Hermione didn't know what and she planned to find out so that she could help Harry. Hermione resolved to keep both of eyes on her raven-haired friend to make sure nothing more happened to him.

…

Meanwhile a few floors down Minerva McGonagall was waiting for her student who had a worrying knack for attracting trouble of the lethal kind. There was a sharp knock at her door and Minerva knew it was the child she was waiting for. Harry Potter appeared at the door looking pale and ill. Minerva was concerned about the boy's appearance. Surely the one night on the floor of the Great Hall couldn't have had such a drastic effect on him. 

If it had been any day, Minerva would think that the boy's ghostly pallor Minerva would have thought it was them smuggling in Firewhisky. But the boy had slept in the Great Hall under watch of the teaching staff. Minerva watched Harry suspiciously trying to figure out what was wrong with the child.

'Potter, are you alright?' asked Minerva worriedly.

'Fine,' Harry said but Minerva could tell he was lying.

McGonagall may not have believed her student, but she knew by the stubborn look in his eyes that he was no way in hell going to reveal the truth. It was the same stubborn look Lily would sometimes get in her eyes. Minerva was well aware of just how independent Harry was but hoped that Harry would confide in someone even if it wouldn’t be her! But she turned to the matter in hand that she had to tell the pale, sickly looking young man the grim truth.

'There's no point in hiding it from you any longer, Potter,' Minerva said carefully not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already seemed to be. 'I know this will come as a shock to you,' Minerva took a breath and forced herself to tell Potter the awful truth. 'But Sirius Black has reported to be after you.'

Minerva watched her student carefully for any reaction at this terrible statement and what she saw shocked her even further than she already was by Potter's behaviour just now. There was no fear on that pale face; plenty of shock and disbelief at the terrible truth. But no fear; never fear! But the lack of fear on Harry's face didn't surprise her (Harry was rarely afraid of anything) but the fact that he didn't believe her did surprise her.

Usually, Harry was aware of attempts upon his life before any of them were. But with Black, Potter didn't believe her. She would just have to make the boy believe her to avoid him going looking for trouble or finding trouble anyway. And naturally he would have to avoid going on Hogsmeade trips and Quidditch matches.

'You'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be attending Hogsmeade trips, nor to be practicing Quidditch in the evening. Out on the pitch with only your team members, it's very exposed-' Minerva began.

Potter glared, ‘We've got out first Quidditch match on Saturday! I've got to train, Professor,' begged Potter looking completely outraged at the prospect of missing Quidditch reminding the deputy painfully of James Potter.

It was this more than anything else that forced Minerva to give the boy another option, 'well goodness knows I'd like to see us win the cup at last but all the same, Potter, I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions.'

‘Thank you,’ said Harry. ‘And banning me from Hogsmeade makes no sense, Professor. Black won’t recognise me in a crowd, and quite frankly if he can get in Hogwarts staying in an almost empty castle is much more dangerous than being lost in a crowd at Hogsmeade.’

Minerva almost smiled, he was so very like Lily. And he wasn’t exactly wrong. Hogwarts was not safe, but it would have teachers who could keep a closer watch on him than they could at Hogsmeade. She might suggest to Remus to keep an eye on him then. She was sure Remus would jump at a chance to get to know James and Lily’s child.

‘There is too great a chance that he would be able to get to you out in the open, Potter,’ Minerva said. ‘That is my final word, I am sorry, but until he is caught, I want you to stay in Hogwarts.’

Potter glared, ‘fine.’

Minerva might have to personally keep an eye on Potter on the next Hogsmeade weekend. He was wearing an expression which was a terrible mix of Lily’s stubbornness and James’ expression just before a prank went on. It was clear to Minerva that Harry Potter had no intention of doing as he was told!


End file.
